


Mouthiwork

by Zaxal



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Denial of Feelings, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaxal/pseuds/Zaxal
Summary: For Kinktober Day 1: Deepthroating.





	Mouthiwork

There’s a moment where everything goes quiet. All the shit he can’t stop thinking about, remembering, wondering if he forgot — all of it shuts the fuck up. It’s the only reason why he does this.

Like, okay. Whatever. He ‘likes’ Michael. Kind of. Michael doesn’t _hate_ him which is a step up from the rest of the family, but he still manages to be a little bitch and get in Gob’s way _and then he bitches more_ like it’s _Gob’s_ fault the best place to sell frozen bananas is on the pier, come _on_.

Liking Michael or not liking Michael, that’s not why he’s _here_. It’s all about that sweet spot that he just can’t find on his own.

He’s tried. Other guys, they’re never the right size. Too short, too thin, too fat, too long.

Michael’s dick happens to be just right, sliding over his tongue and down his throat and making everything else shut up for once in his fucking life.

“Gob,” Michael breathes like this is a surprise, like they haven’t done this a hundred times already. It’s kinda pathetic, that this is the most action he’s getting right now, but Gob can’t tell him that because he’s a little focused on the cock in his throat. Gob can feel it throbbing in his mouth, on his tongue, getting harder and filling out until Gob should be gagging.

They’ve done this often enough that he never gags anymore.

He swallows around Michael, lips pressed almost flush against his body. Michael groans, fingers combing through Gob’s hair as Gob’s own hands press on Michael’s thighs, spreading them a little farther apart on the bed.

He has to pull back to breathe, panting hard to catch his breath before he’s sinking down again, taking his sweet time while his hands move to hold Michael’s hips. Michael _says_ he won’t thrust, but like he can help it. The guy looks all buttoned up with his stupid suits and polos and khakis, but there’s a desperate slut deep down inside. As if to prove the point, Michael’s hips flex, fighting the urge to push forward as another ragged noise tears out of him.

Gob gives up some of his air to laugh around him, and the deep hum that accompanies it makes Michael almost pull his hair. He soothes it in apology.

“So fucking good at this,” Michael says in a low tone as if anyone’s gonna overhear them. “Jesus-”

Gob dares to open his eyes and look up. It’s a huge mistake.

Because Michael’s eyes are open but he’s not staring off into the distance or the ceiling, daydreaming about whatever girl he wants to stick it in which is pretty much the usual routine here. He’s looking at Gob with a dark intensity as his fingers card through his hair. “Gob, you’re- you’re so-” He breaks off into a moan. “ _Gob_.”

Gob’s so hard it feels like he’s going to come in his pants.

Thoughts start to filter in past the barrier, thoughts that he doesn’t want to deal with which is why he’s here in the first goddamn place, but instead of pulling away, he contracts his throat. Drool falls from the corner of his mouth, and his head starts to spin but he can’t, he can’t, he has to do this, he can’t stop-

Michael’s noises suddenly pitch up and his breathing comes harder. Gob’s so fucking ready but Michael _pushes him away_.

At first he’s gasping then coughing, barely able to form a coherent thought. “Wh- what- Why, fuck- Mike-”

“Your face was going purple, idiot,” Michael says and for some reason doesn’t touch himself. He should. His dick is sort of arched in midair, precome pearling at the tip. He has to be so near the edge, but he’s still waiting. “You forgot to breathe.”

“Had everything under control,” Gob says, staring at Michael’s dick like he’s been hypnotized. His mouth waters even as his chest heaves, pulling in air. He feels a little more stable than he did, but he also feels weirdly drunk.

“Yeah, sure you did,” Michael says, shaking with tension.

Gob speaks before he can think better of it: “What’re you waiting for?”

Michael makes a face like he’s having second thoughts and oh fuck _that_ , but Michael says, “I’m _waiting_ for you to finish what you started.” He lifts a hand and grasps his dick in a loose fist, stroking so agonizingly slowly that Gob’s cock throbs. Honestly, he’d be fine watching Michael jerk it, clearly enjoying Gob’s handiwork — mouthiwork?

Then, Michael’s breath shudders, and he says, “Y’know, for once.”

Gob practically slaps Michael’s hand away so he can swallow him down again with a growl. Michael loses that stupid, smug look real fast, repeating, “Gob, Gob, I’m gonna- Gob-”

Gob only closes his eyes when he _feels_ Michael tip over that last edge, shooting his load straight down Gob’s throat.


End file.
